One Shall Stand
by Miss Andromeda Prime
Summary: There is war on the horizon of Cybertron. Two who share the same vision of Cybertron would see to that vision in very different ways: one through politics; honorable "Autobots", and one through tyranny; warring "Decepticons". There is a beginning to this war, and she is caught between two sides, each with promises. Choose carefully, for one shall stand, and one shall fall. OP/OC
1. Summary--The Author's Note

**Summary**

_Peace has be-settled Cybertron._

_But, at what cost? The wars are over and the Prime's gone, the planet run by the seemingly industrial caste system. The Council hides beside their laws of inequality and industry, pressing the population to give back what they use, and to be satisfied with who they are. Don't speak, and you will live. Speak, and the world come knocking at your door._

_Fate would befall the planet, and in due time. Three individuals, seemingly nothings in the eyes of the castes, would challenge destiny and the future of their home by asking the question lost perhaps to the stars by passivity and compromise: What if there's more?_

_The coming revolution has two sides: one, the side of equality through politics; reasoning, peace, and change. The other, equality through tyranny; one to lead us all into the new Cybertron, to show us the way to equality._

_For politics to be heard would require a ambassador, who would deem the cause initiated by his new Autobots, one librarian Optimus Prime, who would share his ideals with a striking femme of imagination, compassion, and strength: Andromeda, reporter to Alpha Trion, keeper of history in the Hall of Records._

_To lead Cybertron to equality through tyranny, would be the gladiator Megatron; bent on equality at the hand of labor and force. His army of the lowest caste-members, Decepticons, would show their force and strength by battle and evening the high castes and the low. He would fight the system, and forget the imagination of Cybertron._

_Peace, though beautiful as she may seem, would leave them to themselves. _

* * *

_Sending Transmission: _

**This idea originated by the Transformers: Exodus book, written by Alex Irvine. Note, his book is the official history of the war for Cybertron. I have taken the idea and incorporated an OC, Andromeda, who will be a love interest for Optimus Prime. She is an original idea of mine. However, don't be confused with another Andromeda in one of my older stories _Cybertron's Grace: In Love and War. _This Andromeda is very different, and has no resemblance to that story line whatsoever. **

**Also recognize that I posted this under the movies category because there is no book listing. Also, most of my work originates under movies, so it seems appropriate. This is a Cybertron story, and it does not follow Michael Bay's work. It is Cybertron-based, not Earth based. There will be characters from just about every genre of Transformers, so be aware. **

**The following chapter is a pilot. I would like to see the response to the idea before I continue. If the response is well-received, I will continue. If not, enjoy the one shot anyway and I'll think about taking the idea another route. If you don't want spoilers to Irvine's book, please don't read. Response is HIGHLY appreciated and the idea depends on them...detailed ones are best. I always respond to Private Messages as well, if you have questions. **

**Enjoy the ride, everyone. Choose your side carefully. **

**In Honor, **

_Prime_


	2. Pilot

_Pilot_

* * *

It was quiet in the Hall.

It usually always was quiet to some degree. Data and analyzers had no use for noise; it was static and unnecessary for the cause of the labor they did according to their castes. It wasn't necessary to speak to other clerks, or converse with the investigators that came to collect data and ask questions, or say hello to the witness femmes that came on behalf of the overseers. It required consistency; a consistency that required processing and organization, not noise. It had been this way for eons, analyzing and categorizing in the quietness.

That was, until she arrived.

Orion Pax first noticed her, as did the other data clerks in his section of Hall, by her conversations. She was a reporter, who reported to Alpha Trion himself and did his researching for him, more along the lines of a personal assistant that could conscribe reports and seal them away in the deepest parts of the Hall of Records. She dealt with the history of the histories; the deepest knowledge of Cybertron's most elite, most forgotten. Her caste did not seem fitting for her, however, for she had rebelled against the code which had been discreetly and unofficially recognized by the clerks and other works: solitude.

As her job required her to call upon data clerk's for the purest and most complete information, he'd noticed she done a fine job at fine tuning her communication skills. She could effortlessly carry on conversation, as well as start them, without so much as realizing she'd disturbed the equilibrium of the clerk's around her. The silence as she entered the room must not have struck her as normal, or she refused to acknowledge, or perhaps even she did not give the slightest care. She just marched into his sector, seated herself next to whichever clerk she needed, and did her job. She researched, compiled a quick field report, and left.

This femme was a disturbance to the system, to the caste.

And, as of late, Orion Pax was disturbed by the castes. There was talk once again of revolution trying to sweep Cybertron; starting in the pits of Kaon, where gladiators fought to die and died to live. There was one, though, they said, that had rebelled against the caste and given himself a name, something not allowed by "industrial workers". He was an undefeated gladiator, one that went by Megatronus, having named himself after one of the Prime's with different ideals than the rest. He was claiming tyranny had plagued Cybertron, and that castes were not in the future of the planet or its inhabitants. At least, these were the things Orion Pax was hearing float through the airwaves of data, where he marked them.

Peace was unraveling. Perhaps it wasn't peace that had taken the planet captive, as the Council had claimed it did. Perhaps it was as this gladiator said, perhaps it was tyranny. Perhaps it was the rich thriving on belittling the rest due to programming and circumstance? Orion Pax could not be sure what this was, this slumbering feeling holding Cybertron tightly in its grip, that kept the world where it was by sentencing some to castes that would kill them, and others to castes that would see to the killing.

Whatever this was, it was not how he saw Cybertron. It was not how the Council and the Prime's had run Cybertron in the times of the wars before them. This was not the same feeling that beheld Cybertron as they constructed the Space Bridges and colony planets around those Bridges, stretching out into the stars and galaxies to renew the mind's eye of imagination and discover in bewilderment. This was not the feeling behind the Star Saber and the Allspark, or any of the original creations of the Prime's.

No. This was not Cybertron.

For so long their balance had been disrupted and corrupted that it had become normal. For so long Orion Pax and his fellow caste members, as all castes members, had sat idly by and let the Council make decisions for them. Their will was silenced from birth and their futures deadened before they even had optics to see or vocoders to speak. They'd accustomed themselves to their world and lived in it, in silence. In compromise.

This femme did not. She dared the system, dared to raise voice among the clerks she so often visited. She sat at the feet of his overseer, Alpha Trion, and compiled reports of history and information at his beck and call. She did it effortlessly, and she did it effectively. He'd conversed with this femme on a few occasions, she asking for data on certain subjects, him surrendering it to her willfully. Her audacity, one of grace and prudence, was altering. It confused him, but delighted him. Orion Pax had never had the mind to process, but she did.

She, was Andromeda.


End file.
